Thinking of You (Post-Battle of Hogwarts Fan Fiction) [ON HOLD]

Four years on, scars from that fateful night still have yet to heal. Rowena Stafford watched her best friend die that night and still remains haunted by her memory. Can changes in her life finally allow her to move on? And when Hogwarts itself falls back into turmoil, can she pl...

When Rowena’s eyes flew open, at first, all she could see was the green.Swarms of emerald blinded her. Her mouth flew open and she screamed, clawing at the moss-like air. The green faded and her bedroom slowly returned into focus. The small scar on her left wrist burnt furiously.

Pulling herself up, she shook her head gently. She was home. She was safe. The familiar face of Valmai Morgan peered down at her curiously from the assortment of moving posters that littered the wall above her bed. The famous Chaser stretched her arms out casually, decked in the Holyhead Harpies robes. The rest of the room was covered in small Polaroid photos, sellotaped to every inch of the wall, little figures moving around in each of them.

Rowena struggled out of bed, dumping her duvet cover to the floor. Her wardrobe doors were broken and clothes spilt out. She managed to retrieve a crumpled t-shirt and a pair of jeans from the bottom. Her arms full of clothes; she kicked her bedroom door and wandered down to the bathroom.

The wave of green light engulfed them and Ivy was torn from her arms.

The burning sensation of the shower on full force managed to subdue the shaking. The nightmares had always been bad. Ever since that fateful night. But never before had they been so… visual. Almost as if she was back there again. Facing it all again.

Her hair clean and smelling gorgeously of apples and her clothes thrown over her dry body, Rowena was ready. She hopped down the stairs to find the remaining Stafford children stuffing their faces over the breakfast table.

Rhea, two years her junior at thirteen and with hair the exact same shade of onyx as Rowena’s, had Witch Weekly propped up against the salt and pepper pots as she ferociously attacked the bacon sandwich. Eleven year old Rex and eight year old Riley argued over the free Quidditch cards that came with their box of Chocolate Snitches. Their mother, Kitty, looked barely awake as she flicked her wand wearily at the stove.

“What’s for breakfast, Mum?” Rowena asked, pulling her chair up next to Rhea’s so that she could read over her shoulder. “Celestina Warbeck’s got another divorce! She’s got to be at least ninety by now! And Mum… what’s wrong?”

“Got called into the Ministry at two in the morning,” she yawned, flicking her wand so that a plate piled high with bacon sandwiches landed in front of Rowena. “Some stupid moron decided to Apparate in the middle of a nightclub. Splinched, of course…” She shuddered, her black curls shaking slightly. “Left his right leg in the middle of the dance floor whilst the rest of him ended up in the toilets. He had no license and now your poor Dad’s stuck at the office on a Saturday.”

Richard and Kitty Stafford both worked at the Ministry under the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Whilst Kitty was on the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, the charismatic Richard worked for the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.

The radio was humming slightly in the background as the Elder Damsels wailed through yet another drab love ballad. The August heat was stifling, even at nine in the morning, and the window was open. The bacon sandwiches tasted brilliant on Rowena’s tongue, smoky and warm.

The peaceful morning atmosphere was broken only by the screech of three official-looking barn owls. Rhea’s magazine slipped into a puddle of ketchup, Riley squealed and Rex turned slightly green. Kitty dozed, her head slumped on the worktop. Only Rowena leapt to her feet and untied the letters from each of the owls’ feet.

“Mine…” she murmured, placing the envelope on the table. “Rhea…” She threw the letter at her sister who caught it with the casual ease of a Chaser. “Rex…”